


First Look

by rosa241



Series: Brothers, lovers and everything in between [11]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Hurt d'Artagnan, Worried Aramis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 11:17:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11966253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosa241/pseuds/rosa241
Summary: Between leaving the Inn and finding Cordet Aramis realises that D’Artagnan is hurt and proceeds to take care of him.





	First Look

**Author's Note:**

> Next part in the series here. I hope that this works well. I’ve seen a couple of these done before and I hope that this works as well as the ones that I’ve read.

** First Look **

** By Rosa241 **

**Aramis POV:**

At the young lad winces again I can’t help but sigh. I should have seen this sooner. Sharing a look with Porthos he reaches out and grabs hold of the kids reigns pulling his horse to a sudden stop. His eyes whip around with what looks like fear before recognition dawns across his face. It’s almost like he forgot that we were here.

_Just how out of it is he?_

Looking at him now I can see the dark circles lining under his eyes.

_I wonder when he last slept?_

Shaking my head at the thought I push the worry to the back of my mind for the moment and focus on the most important part.

“How bads the pain?” He looks almost startled as I ask but he answers all the same as I thought he would.

“It’s fine, I’m alright.” Looking into the eyes of the young boy in front of me I realise all of a sudden that he is exactly that. He’s a boy. He can’t be any older than twenty. Just what has he been through in the last few days? Judging from the dark circles under his eyes he can’t have slept all that much and given what grief does to you I highly doubt he’s been eating.

_You fool!_

I should have seen it sooner. I’m supposed to be the medic, the one who takes care of others and I didn’t see it. Something inside me stirs at the sight of the young boy so clearly in so much pain but so unwilling to let anyone take care of him. Shaking my head I push it to one side and focus again.

“Porthos start a fire would you.” My large comrade pushes his horse to one side as I take another look over the boy before me. Judging from the way that he’s holding himself I’d say that it was his ribs that were the current problem.

His eyes cast over me for a few moments but he seems to finally make his decision.

“We should keep going.” His words have me shaking my head and behind me I can hear Porthos’ sigh.

“In a while. Right now I want to take a look at you, make sure that you’re not hiding anything life threatening. Down.” It takes a few more moments before he finally resigns himself to his fate and hops down from the horse. The stumble as he reaches the ground I hadn’t been expecting. He steadies himself after a minute and it doesn’t take a genius to work out that the ribs are more painful than he’s willing to admit.

Ushering him over towards the fire I share a look with Porthos who shakes his head in return.

“Shouldn’t hide injuries lad it’s never a good idea.” D’Artagnan shakes his head at that and his next words actually make me smile.

“We’ve more important things than a few bruises.” Porthos chuckles and it’s a testament to how exhausted the lad clearly is that he doesn’t even blink at it. Truth be told I’m not sure he’s noticed. The same thought has gone through both mine and Porthos’ head at his words.

_Kids a lot like Athos._

“Bruises or not Aramis is like a blood hound when it comes to injuries. He sniffs them out, just knows that they’re there so there ain’t no point in keeping it quiet.” It takes just a look before the lad is carefully stripping off his tunic and allow me to take care of him. It’s agonising watching him still and hiss through the pain his movements cause and I can’t help feeling a little guilty at making him do this. It needs to be done though.

By the time that he’s rid himself of the tunic Porthos has gotten the fire going and is standing just behind me. My eyes catch sight of the bandages already round his torso and I’m reminded of the scene we walked in on back at the house.

_They were already wrapping them up._

Truthfully I want to walk over there and help him but I don’t think he’d appreciate it. The fact that we’re working together doesn’t make a difference right now he’s still a stranger. He doesn’t know us and from the looks he keeps sending my way I don’t think he’d appreciate me jumping in and helping him.

Porthos’ hiss as the last layer of bandage is removed pretty much sums up the mess that littered the boys body. Purple blotches basically covered the right side of his ribs and spread across his stomach and no doubt across his back. Eyeing him carefully I can see that it’s probably been a while since he had a decent meal, given just how skinny he is and how much of his ribs I can currently see.

_Regardless of what happens he’s not leaving my sight until he’s fed well and those ribs have healed._

Nodding at my silent promise I move closer and kneel down by his side. Porthos doesn’t need to be told before he sets about making something to eat for us all. Truth be told I could wait until we get moving again but the kid can’t. Looking over him it’s probably been a while since his last decent meal and to be perfectly honest I suspect he’s running on passion and determination alone. It won’t be long before he completely crashes.

_At least if we get something in him he’ll hold out a little longer._

He says nothing as I usher him to lie down and begin inspecting the wound. It doesn’t take long before I can determine that he’s carrying at least one broken rib, probably two judging from the way he cries out when I probe his lower right side. It amazes me that he fought so well back at the garrison with these bothering him. It’ll have caused him no end of pain yet he fought so well. Athos may well have been allowing the boy some leniency but he fought very well despite the pain he would have been in. A thought flashes across my mind.

_How well could he fight if he were at full strength?_

“Right well they’ll need restrapping, properly this time, no doubt Madame Bonacieux did her best but the binding is too loose. And I recommend that you take this.” Handing him the small vile that I always make sure to carry. Being a musketeer, especially when you travel with two men who’d rather keel over than admit to being in pain, warrants always carrying the necessary medicinal items. Pain relief being one of them.

“Drink it lad. It’ll do wonders for the pain broken ribs are no joke.” Upon Porthos’ words he seems to realise that he has very little choice in the matter and downs the contents of the vile. Ideally I wouldn’t strap his ribs and instead have him resting but given the distance we’ve got to cover he’ll need some sort of protection on them. Plus there’s the fact that I can see that this kid won’t stop until he’s got vengeance for his father. Strapping them is the best option I can see.

He hisses as I restrap his abused torso but otherwise he says nothing. There are moments when I watch him and it’s almost like he’s not really there. Like he’s somewhere else. He seems so lost and my heart almost breaks a little. Given the way Porthos’ eyes keep drifting over to him I can see that my friend feels it too. Something within him is drawn to the boy and I can feel it myself.

“There. You must make sure to take deep breaths. Don’t give me that look I know it hurts but taking shallow breaths will only hurt your lungs. Taking deep breaths will ensure your lungs don’t suffer from the strapping.” He grimaces as he does so and my heart goes out of him again. Of course it hurts to keep taking deep breaths but it’s really the best solution.

As I move backwards, allowing him time to redress, I wander over to where Porthos is knelt by the fire.

“Lad’s all skin and bones.” Knowing Porthos like I do there’s no way that he’ll be able to forget that part in a hurry.

“I doubt he’s eaten properly since his father died and that could be up to a week ago now, maybe more.” My friends growl went unnoticed by the boy who had finally managed to redress and was staring into space again. “Grief is a horrific thing. I’ve seen more than one person simply fade away through the grief of having a loved one die.”

Something inside me cries out at the thought of him fading away but I push it to one side.

“He needs to sleep.” Nodding my head I can’t help agreeing. He’s right of course but he won’t stop until he’s avenged his father. My only hope is that he can hold on for that long. It doesn’t take long before Porthos has whipped up something edible.

“Thanks but I’m not hungry.” D’artagnan shrugs off the bowl and turns his attention back to the thoughts currently crossing his mind. Shaking his head Porthos all but shoves the bowl into his hands.

“You need to eat.” When the lad looks set to argue again he speaks. “You ain’t going to be any use to us if you keel over. You need to keep your strength up.”

It’s a dirty trick and Porthos knows it. However it does the job and after barely a moments hesitation he takes a few bites of the food. It takes longer than it should before he’s finished the bowl but the knot in my stomach lessens when he finally does. At least now he’s had something to eat.

“Look. I know that this must be incredibly difficult for you but running yourself into the ground won’t help anyone.” He nods as I speak and has the grace to look a little sheepish. I wait until he’s on his horse before moving to my own. As we get back on your way he stops and turns to me for a moment. With the briefest smile he utters the words.

“Thank you.” He’s moved on quickly but I can feel the smile tugging at my lips.

_Maybe he isn’t beyond hope yet. Maybe…_

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I really hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I’ve written a few modern day pieces so it’s nice to get back to the original setting. 
> 
> Spoiler - Next fic will be called – A wet nose


End file.
